


I love you, I love you.

by iMusicalMinji



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Ascending to godtier, M/M, Suicide, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-17
Updated: 2013-12-17
Packaged: 2018-01-04 22:30:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1086403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iMusicalMinji/pseuds/iMusicalMinji
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The voice and clattered black text told you to lay down and die to achieve wonders beyond your imagination.  </p><p>Some mythical promise of eternal life through something called God Tier.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I love you, I love you.

 

You lay awake upon the stone slab that would lead to a selfish accomplishment of brilliance and stupidity. You had to take a couple deep breaths, gulping down and choking on the thickness of the situation mingled with the soggy atmosphere. It felt humid and tense even if you were the only one in the room. You had demand ed  that none of your worthless minions be around to witness you at your strongest and weakest. Why had you agreed to do this? It was simple enough. The voice and clattered black text told you to lay down and die to achieve wonders beyond your imagination. 

Some mythical promise of eternal life through something called God Tier. 

As you lay and try your best to regain your confidence, taking in greedy gasps for more oxygen, your thoughts trailing to things to take the focus off the pain you were sure to feel. Any sentient being with a beating heart fears for their life in inexplic able ways. It doesn't take a scholar or self proclaimed genius to figure that out. Even if you were different then humans, trolls, or frog people, this was something that you surely felt the same about. 

You trail your hands ac ross the mythical rock beneath your body, finger tips catching and scrapping against the intricate cravings of lore and legend. You wonder if you had been set up as you drag your claws through the  D erse  flag that was snatched up and laid  to adore your bed, giving it more of a comforting appeal to trick your mind into ease. Even if that tactic had fallen short by a long stretch. You yank your hands back from fidgeting to cross them over your chest, pressing tightly onto your black clothed torso.  You glance at the weapons left in your stead. The knives, the  swords , your trusty rifle.. 

If you were being tricked, and dyed perm a n ent ly , no one would miss you.  Not your sister, because you had her eliminated. Not your lackeys because even you could acknowledge that you treat them horribly and many of them seemed fed up with you even  now.  No parents to cry over their lost child, and the troll would be thrilled for the sole fact that he would be free of one parties' continuous torment on his mind. 

You thought to the human children. You almost sicken yourself to think of them as friends, but there is always that small part of yourself, the mutated part, that enjoys the sentimental and loving nature of those creatures.  The hot ugly bitch wouldn't probably bat a drunken eye at your departure. She would probably consider it a sweet and just revenge for murdering her best friend.

Then there was Jane. She was one of your favorites among the pointless females. Her emotional outbreaks and sense of right and wrong from her personal views made your heart race in excitement. You adored how you could rile her with simple insults and you almost ached when she refused to lessen her own self worth for your twisted amusement. Her entire being screamed of health and happiness you never felt you could achieve and part of you hated her for that. You hated her friendships with the others, you hated how she was much to the opposite of yourself. She had something you wanted. 

There wasn't much to Jake you cared for. You felt he was dim witted and incredibly undeserving of everything he was granted. Your time sense has informed you of his greatness, as well as the irritating black text that invaded your thought space, which all but forced you to interact with him. You refused to admit defeat to someone as idiotic as him so you offered to help him. Sometime along the course of speaking with him you realized that he might not mind your conversation, your topics, your drawings. You could almost lead yourself to believe that he could miss you, but then you remember his other friends that would surely poison his thoughts and drive you out. You hated his friendships, you hated how easy he made it all seem, you hated how Jane and Dirk loved him. He had something you wanted.

Your thoughts froze on Dirk. His actions, his mannerisms, his glasses, his hair, his skin... Everything about the boy flooded ever crevi ce  of you mind and you hated how relaxed and calm you felt thinking about him, speaking to him. You won't lie to yourself, you admit he is your very favorite human. A part of you even hurts when thinking of killing him like you do so many others. You try to reason with yourself, try to insist that he would miss you for sure. He was your favorite after all and that made him your best friend in a sense. He would miss you even with Roxy and Jane and Jake, he would miss you despite all the love and despite all the new people he was sure to meet.

He was sure to.

Your heart bubbled with anger again, why lie to yourself? You had just promised not to! You were mocking yourself, him missing you? How ridiculous the notion! He would be happy you were gone, happy to no longer received well worked gifts of art that were actually very bad, happy to never wait on your delayed responses, happy that you could never kill his friends, happy that you would never get the change to tell him that you....

That you...

The pain was brief, a long sword through the softest part of your chest. The blood pooled around you and you could only catch a glimpse of a faint shape it dribbled into as you were lifted into the air. How dumb those worries were. 

** "IT WAS EASY, INVOLVING A TRIVIAL ACT OF SELF SUICIDE."   
**


End file.
